


Doing the Do(g)

by ao3afterdark



Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: Bestiality, F/M, Incest, Other, i will accept no blame whatsoever, look - Freeform, we all knew it was going here
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-22
Updated: 2017-06-22
Packaged: 2018-11-17 05:10:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,040
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11268597
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ao3afterdark/pseuds/ao3afterdark
Summary: Gamlen catches his niece Bethany having a little private time with her older sibling's mabari, and figures he might as well make the best of a good situation.





	Doing the Do(g)

Gamlen was grumbling to himself as he staggered up the stairs to the hovel he now shared with his sister and her brats, swearing step by step as he hauled himself up the railing when the ground looked like it wanted to trade places with the sky.

He didn't bother being quiet. He was earlier than he or anyone had had any reason to expect, after all. He'd gotten pickpocketed somewhere between bars, and hadn't had enough left to buy as much as he wanted. No one else was supposed to be here tonight, either, so he had no reason to expect noises from further inside the building. Very familiar noises.

He paused, debating whether a laugh was worth the effort it would take to get over there, when the very distinctive sound of Bethany’s voice hit his ears, along with something else.

He turned towards the only other door in the building instantly, without thought. Hawke and Bethany had been given free reign of the back room that held the bunkbed, and until now he'd had no reason to ever bother looking back there. He hadn't assumed there was anything of interest to him, but now, that very much looked to not be the case.

This was only confirmed as the noises grew louder with every step. Mixed among them were moans and soft, slick noises that made his mouth dry out. If he'd had any second thoughts, that wiped them away entirely, still further as he pushed open the door.

From where he was standing, he had a very good view of how Bethany had stripped down to the tunic she wore beneath her chainmail. It wasn't soft, like a highborn lady’s silk gown would be, but rough spun cotton that the-

Oh.

Oh.

That was a dog riding his niece. A very specific, familiar dog. He recognized that heart shaped spot on its hindquarters from Hawke’s mabari, just above the flex in its muscles as it drove its cock into Bethany’s cunt again and again and again. When it next thrust in, she jerked and let out a long, low moan that did a very good job of covering his own.

He'd spent more than one evening since the Hawkes had moved in jerking off to the thought of Bethany’s soft breasts and wide brown eyes and, on one notable occasion, had gone so far as to hire a girl at the Blooming Rose who superficially resembled her and who hadn't minded being called by somebody else’s name, but he hadn't ever considered this. Now he wished he had.

He could feel himself growing hard, watching, and palmed at his cock with a shaking hand. He wondered how many times he'd just missed discovering the two of them at it, and the thought made him have to bite his lip to hold back another groan.

From this angle, it was easy to see the sway of her breasts as she ground back into the mabari’s cock. The dog was taking her with short, hard snaps of its hips, stuffing her full until she let out a steady stream of thoughtless, guttural grunts that made him dizzy, near lightheaded.

The beast was taking her with a singleminded focus that made Bethany cry out with every thrust, near shrieking, and spread her legs wider to admit it. After enough of that, however, his view of her cunt was obstructed by her thigh, and without thought he stepped farther into the room. Neither appeared to notice. To the contrary, her older sibling’s mabari had bitten down on Bethany’s neck and hauled her back onto its cock as it quickened the pace, growling every time it bottomed out.

He thrust into his own hand as he watched, panting hard, a plan already formulating in his mind. By the time the pair stilled, he'd come to a decision.

What he hadn't expected, however, was for the pair to be stuck together afterwards. That was new, but something that no one in the room, himself included, seemed to mind. There was much to envy about a dog in that respect, he thought, in being able to very physically remind a woman that she was yours long after you'd claimed her.

Finally, though, after some minutes of their being locked together in an embrace that he would be seeing again very soon in the near future, if he had anything to say about it, the beast’s cock seemed to have shrunk down enough for it to withdraw from her. There was a small but unmistakable pop as it did so, and his eyes were instantly drawn towards her cunt in time to see thick trails of cum leaking down her thighs. It was one of the most arousing sights he had ever seen, watching his niece’s cunt twitch in the aftershocks of being bred like any common stray’s bitch, and he ground his hand against where his erection pressed against the front of his trousers.

Bethany sagged forward onto her forearms as he watched, talking quietly to the mabari when it came around to lick at her face. Even now, he could spot a telltale flash of pink beneath its belly, but it seemed entirely concerned with her, instead of its own immediate concerns. Well. It could be trained out of that.

“Not bad,” he commented, and crossed his arms with a smile as Bethany twisted with a shriek and fell on her ass, wide eyed and scrambling away. This angle was very nice too, he noted, admiring her flushed, sweat streaked face and the heaving of her breasts as she stared at him. “And here you had me convinced you were some blushing virgin. Get a little too bored on the farm one night, little girl?”

She flushed still further and made to stand until he held up a finger. “Are you sure you want to do that?” She watched him warily, even as that dog had circled around in front of her, lip lifting up in a silent snarl. “Best tell your brother’s mutt to mind its own business if don't want it to become your mother’s business, too,” he said in a calm, friendly tone that nonetheless made her flinch.

“Cookie,” she said in a cracked voice barely above a whisper. The dog turned, looked at her with a whine. When she tried a smile and nodded her head, Cookie whined a second time, louder, but slunk out of the room.

As soon as it had gone, Gamlen shut and locked the door, which he was distantly surprised she hadn't done herself, then turned a smile on her. “Back down on your hands and knees,” he said, then, off her expression, “come now, I’d think you're familiar enough with how this goes.”

Bethany looked at him wildly, sweat soaked hair flaring wide as she pleaded, “W-wait, you can't-!”

Gamlen snorted derisively and ran a hand down the length of her back from her neck to her ass, his eyes going half lidded with want. “Don't play at being coy now, princess,” he said. “You think fucking a cocktease is worse than gagging for a dog?”

She started to say something, and he cut her off with a sudden, stinging slap on her ass that made her cry out. “You are,” he said, then slapped her again, and again. He probably should have been pulling the blows, but a wordless excitement was racing like fire through his veins, a need to see her cry, to be in pain, and he found it hard to stop, or even slow down. By the time he stopped they were both breathing hard and she was near sobbing, trembling where she had knelt to brace on her forearms. He couldn't remember ever being this hard. “And you think everyone else is going to protect you from having to pay up for the promises you make.”

“I don't make any-”

He slapped her again, on the same spot as he had all the others, and this time she did start to cry. Quietly, but unmistakeable. He could hear it, see it in the shake of her shoulders, and he bared his teeth in victory. “From now on,” he said silky smooth, “you are going to get punished for lying. Let's try that again. What promises do you make?”

He encouraged her to look at him with a yank of her hair. When she did, he was actually taken aback to see red rimmed eyes locked in a glare. “ _Nothing_.”

He hadn't expected her to have this much of a spine, which made it all the more fun when he dropped to his knees behind her, which earned him a very satisfying flinch that increased to a full on shiver when she heard him very slowly, deliberately unbuckle his belt. He savored the feel of it where they were pressed close together, her trembling bringing her away and back against him in a series of movements that provoked an immediate interest in his already hard cock.

The next time this happened he wrapped a hand that was still greasy from his work in the factory around her hip and pulled her back against him. Even through his smallclothes, he could feel her heat against him. He bent to press his face against her neck and thrust hard. He drank in the noise she made, mixed outrage and fear, as well as the moisture that quickly soaked his smallclothes as he started to rock his hips. Whether it was the mabari’s cum or her own arousal, it didn't really matter to him, though he had absolutely no problems using it against her.

“Are you sure?” He murmured in her ear, and twisted to nip at her earlobe. His hand had started to wander, smoothing across soft skin down around to tease at her clit. He could feel it was poking from the hood, and grinned against her skin with another slow, insistent roll of his hips. “Because I think you've been promising sex from the moment you walked through my doors.”

She made a strangled noise and started to thrash, struggling to pull away from him, only to be yanked back into place. “I think,” he said as if the interruption had never happened, “that I deserve payment for doing my part to get you into the city, and this is how I intend to get it. Through your cunt,” he murmured, voice dropping as he started to nose at her neck, nipping and suckling at it until he wrung out the first of what he intended to be very many soft whimpers. “Your ass. Your mouth. Anything I want, whenever and however I want it. Or,” he added with a slow, spreading smile against her skin as he started to flicker his fingers, “how my friends want it.”

She started to say something again, some protest, which was cut off in a very satisfying fashion as he twisted his palm to press against her clit every time he ground against her.

He shifted briefly, long enough to shove his smallclothes out of the way so that his next thrust was skin to skin, sending shocks of electricity up and down his spine. “You ever seen a cock? A proper one,” he added with a crude laugh, pushing his cock so that it rubbed against the edges of her cunt between her folds before slipping out. He groaned, thick and deepening into a rough growling thing as he shifted so that the next few rocks of his hips dragged his cock back and through her folds until she sobbed for breath, pressing back just slightly into him.

“Do you even know what's a proper size for a man? Well. Don't think you're going to find out now,” he told her, and, again, wouldn't have been able to help a self satisfied hum as he took himself in hand to line himself up against her cunt, even if he'd wanted to. He was far bigger than his hand, and wide enough that as he started to push inside her, he could feel the flutter of her cunt around him as her body was forced to stretch to accommodate him.

He pushed in slow, then stopped when just the head was barely inside, shaking with the effort of holding still. “Ffffuck,” he panted, breaking into a rough rasp of a laugh when she sobbed as he pushed in another inch, then was forced to stop. She was tight, tighter than he'd expected from all the dog cock she'd been stuffing herself with, tight enough that even breathing was taking too much energy away from what he wanted to do, which was to pound her every way it was possible to, and then invent a few more.

“Please,” he became aware of her sobbing, nails scratching at the dirt floor. “Don't. Don't. You don't want to do this.”

“Oh,” he rasped, “you have no idea how wrong you are.” One last, hard snap of his hips and he was buried balls deep inside her. She was crying, saying something he couldn't hear, didn't want to, as he held there for a moment, luxuriating in the sensations mixing together into a heady mixture that were making him far more drunk than any swill ever had.

The whore he'd hired from the Rose hadn't felt anywhere near this good, sounded so sweet as he pulled back until his cock was just barely inside before thrusting back in hard enough that she near screamed. Whether in pain or pleasure, he didn't know or care. The next was fast, faster, and every one after that built upon the one before it until his thrusts were slamming into her. He'd meant to take this slow, to savor every second of it, but now that he'd felt her, felt the combined cum and slick wet around his cock, that was the farthest thing in the world from his mind.

Every hard thrust brought his balls slapping against her tender cunt, a counterpoint to their gasps and moans. And she was moaning now, whether she wanted to or not. It was intoxicating, dizzying, knowing she desired this as much in this moment as he did, and he growled for her as he took her. Words, but not her name. He called her a whore, a filthy dog lover, punctuating each word with a thrust that made her wail, made her clench and buck back to meet him, but, most of all, he called her his.

“Never again,” he groaned into her neck, every hard, relentless thrust pressing his cheek against her, over and over and over until he felt like he could feel her breathe, taste it on his tongue. “You want your dog? You want your cunt played with? Only,” a grunt, “when I allow it!” Another. “You are mine, mine, mine,” fast, faster, slurring together until _mine_ and _fucking whore_ blurred together into one long, indecipherable moan that crested on a yell muffled into her neck.

He came hard, yanked her back onto his cock hard enough to bruise and held her there as he spilled himself deep inside her. It was a rush, a blindingly intense orgasm that left him gasping. His hips were still twitching against her as he came down, sensitive and still more than eager to mark her at least one more time, but that would take some time.

Not, however, that other things would. Other people.

“Get yourself cleaned up,” he grunted as he peeled himself off of her back. “We’re going out.”

She still hadn't moved from the same spot when he came back, he noticed with irritation, only started moving at all when he nudged her none too gently with his foot and suggested what uses could be made of her if she wanted to be furniture. That got her moving, which he both liked and did not.

Bethany refused to look at him when she finally pushed herself to unsteady feet, directing a venomous look down at the ground. He didn't care. She could hate him if she wanted to, so long as she gave him what he wanted. And, judging by how she was reaching for her clothes instead of running or shrieking, she was and would continue to.

“Leave it,” Gamlen told her when she started to ruck up the mess that had been made of her tunic, eyeing the yellowing stains where it'd been shoved up over her hips. He smiled when she turned to look at him, making no attempt to leave or look away, until eventually she made a thin sound of frustration and started to yank her clothes back on.

The second they were back in a semblance of order, he pulled her out of the hovel and into the street. He led her towards High Town, which he judged by her sudden stumble that she hadn't expected. He laughed without turning around. “We’re going to a high class sort of party,” he told her, then startled to whistle. He'd have a good night ahead. A very good night.

It was just over half an hour’s walk to the old Amell residence, though he supposed it must have seemed a thousand years to Bethany. Or maybe, he grinned to himself, just over eighteen.

The door to the mansion opened at a quick series of knocks, baring the way for Gamlen to squeeze into the dark interior, yanking a pale Bethany behind him by the wrist. The foyer opened up into what had used to be a fine room, still decorated with a long, wide table around which sat slavers of various description. Most of which scowled when they saw him.

“Thought I told you not to come back until you'd paid up,” one of them told Gamlen, rising from his chair. A weapon sat near his hand, a pointy one, and Gamlen did not miss that, or the tension in the room.

“I wouldn't have bothered coming up here if I didn't have an idea about that,” he answered with a broad, disarming smile, then tilted his head towards Bethany with a significant tilt of his eyebrows. Instantly, all eyes turned towards her and away from Gamlen, which was just how he liked it.

Bethany was clutching herself as she looked around at the half a dozen assembled slavers, all of whom started hotly debating on who should go first, and why. Gamlen interrupted with an upheld hand and a wide grin, nodding at the slaver’s war hound lounging nearby. “How often does he get to taste the good life? It'll be a rare treat for it,” Gamlen told the slavers with a smile he aimed partially at Bethany, who let out a low moan when she saw the slaver’s dog for the first time.

The beast was massive, almost half again the size of Cookie, the mabari that had started this whole situation, and it had to be intimidating as it approached, judging by the low sound she made. “What?” Gamlen asked in a mockingly puzzled tone. “I thought this was what you wanted?”

Bethany turned her face to wipe tears off on her sleeve, and gulped down a sob. It emerged as a croak. “Please,” she gasped, “uncle, let it end. I'm- I'm sorry I lied. I pr-promised it. Just please, let me go home.”

Gamlen crouched down in front of her and cupped her cheek as he gave her a soft smile, one that she returned shakingly. “You act like a whore,” he smiled, “you get fucked like one.” Her smile dropped, still more when seven different voices told her to strip.

She stood shivering for a few moments more, until one of the slavers said, “I will gladly carve you up in your uncle’s place. Stuffed or bled out. Your choice.”

Bethany squeezed her eyes shut tight and hugged her elbows to her chest with a short, ragged sob. Another laugh, a jeering comment on how she shouldn't hide her best features, and she finally straightened with a jerk and started to remove her clothes. She did it quick, with swift, jerking motions, but that didn't stop the comments, or their reaching out to touch and pinch and fondle. Bethany recoiled away at first, only to stumble into another set of hands.

Surrounded on all sides, she had no choice but to keep going, flinching every time she lifted her arms or bent and so left herself painfully exposed.

Someone dragged their hand up the length of her cunt and she half shrieked, stumbling back into someone else, who shoved her back upright with a laughing slap on her ass. “Don't be cringing now,” he said, “you're only just getting started. And Brutus isn't as cuddly as we are.”

Reminded of the dog and all the eyes that awaited her, Bethany slowed, her mouth pinching tight, but the work was done soon enough, and a moment after that she was shoved onto her hands and knees so the dog could mount her properly, clawed forelegs settling on either side of her bare breasts. She winced as it's claws scratched her, which is why Gamlen assumed Bethany had left her tunic on the last time, and scrabbled at the floor, trying to pull away. She was tugged back just as easily as when Gamlen had done it, hemmed in on either side so that she had no option but to take it when the dog shoved into her hard.

Gamlen didn't miss it when Bethany shivered at that first thrust, her mouth falling open on a soft, despairing sound, or how her legs inched further apart at the second, third, and fourth. “I knew you were this eager for it, we'd have stopped by the viscount’s kennels first,” he laughed, but it was slow, and lingered as he watched her grow more and more eager for the dog’s attentions as five thrusts became ten, fifteen. Despite the audience, she started to moan aloud, started to push back to meet every thrust.

Every sound she made, every thoughtless arch of her spine or buck of her hips made Gamlen and the slavers gather closer, eyes locked on the display. More than a few had their cocks out and were working their hands over them, but no one touched her or even approached. The night was young, after all.

Finally, too soon, the dog stilled atop her, giving one, two more jerks of its hips before burying itself deep inside her as it started to come. Bethany wailed as the huge swell of its knot was forced into her cunt, shuddering from head to toe as it was pushed further inside her with every twitch of its hips. With one final thrust and a deep, bass groan, the dog sagged atop Bethany, forcing her upper half down onto the floor.

Bethany looked up, dazed, as the slavers and Gamlen started to clap. “Couldn't have asked for a better performance,” Gamlen told her, tilting his head as full awareness of the situation returned, settling into the downturn of her mouth. “Oh, take your time,” he said brightly. “We can wait.”

She started to pant, breathing fast through her nose as she looked around at the ring of men around her. None of them looked friendly, and all of them looked very intent, approaching still closer when she shivered, throwing parts of her into sharp relief.

Minutes ticked away while they were locked together, long, languorous minutes where every single person present knew that she wasn't being fucked at that very moment because she was already stuffed full to bursting with a dog who was. Eventually however, as all good things must, the dog’s knot shrank so that it could untangle itself from her and pad away, huffing at its master when they asked if it had enjoyed itself. Bethany remained hunched over where she'd been left when the dog had finished, sniffling and curled in on herself.

“You know what I think the problem is?” Gamlen mused from where he sat, leaning forward to brace his forearms on his knees and smile at her. She was panting hard and shaking from what could be any combination of factors, and had never looked so beautiful. Never looked quite so much like she belonged to him as she did right now, crouched on her hands and knees and dripping with cum. He'd never had a whore at his beck and call before, and this specific one made all sorts of thoughts come to mind. “You still think this is going to end.”

She looked up sharply, and oh yes, now he could see the spots of color high on her cheeks and just a hint of the warm curve of a breast where it was hidden behind her arm. “You still think this is a one time thing that you can survive, if you grin and bear it. But it's not, Beth,” he said gently, using the name her brother and mother and presumably father had called her. “You think your family will suddenly not care if I tell them that you get wet and greedy for animals tomorrow, instead of today?”

She swallowed hard, her face twisting in an expression that wasn't hard to read. He watched emotions chase themselves across her face, shame and embarrassment and fear and, finally, something that resembled defiance in the set of her mouth. He'd have to see to that. “Or do you think that you're somehow on the moral high ground about this?” He asked, and yes, there it was, the narrowing of the eyes and thrust out of her jaw. She did.

“Because you can tell yourself that you don't want this until you're blue in the face, but I heard you,” he said, drawing out the sound of ‘heard’ until she flushed and turned her face away. He couldn't have that, so he stood and walked in front of her. Like this, his exposed cock swung thick and heavy right in front of her face, and he took no small amount of satisfaction from the widening of her eyes when he hauled her head back around, whether from fear or surprise at his girth, it didn't matter to him. Either way, he won. “I heard you, when I was taking what you owed me. So eager for cock,” he smiled, tracing her cheek with his fingertips so she shuddered. “Moaning like a streetwhore trying to draw in customers.”

Those big, beautiful eyes had gotten glassy again with unshed tears, and he admired them for a moment before he took his half hard cock in hand and wiped her face with it, smearing precum across her lips and eyes, making her eyelashes tacky. She recoiled away with a cry until she was brought up short by his hand in her hair and hauled back in. “Be a good girl and open your mouth,” he said, a touch breathlessly.

She refused, at first, and he slapped her lightly with his cock. “Do you really want me to make you?” He asked her, and she hesitated, those big brown eyes flashing up to meet his. Leandra’s eyes. He grinned and nudged at her lips with his cock, and this time she hesitantly opened her mouth.

“There's a good girl,” he chuckled, making her flush, but she didn't close her mouth, either. It hung open for him, just the way it always should have, he thought as he gripped her tight by her curls and guided the tip of his cock in just past her lips. There he stopped, panting, and waited. He wanted her to do the bulk of the work herself, and he could see that she very quickly realized that, because after a brief hesitation she stretched her lips around him and took him a bit farther in, stopping when she started to gag. That could be trained out of her, too.

“Good girl,” he crooned again, transfixed by the sight of that pretty, whorish mouth stretched wide. “Now make yourself useful. Use that tongue of yours,” he said, then groaned when she did. It was slow, and faltering, but she then started to bob her head to a jerking rhythm at the urging of his hands. He could hardly breathe, looking down at her as she worked herself up and down on his cock.

It was everything he'd hoped for, triumph and desire and a sense of ownership that made him grip her tighter, giving her just enough warning that her eyes widened before he hauled her face down to the base of his cock, pushing into the back of her throat. It was far deeper than any of her first hesitant attempts, and she panicked at once, pushing at his legs. He had no concerns that she would use her magic on him, however, and so he held her there for an extra few seconds, eyes falling closed at the tight grip of her throat spasming around him.

Only when her struggles started to weaken did he pull out, only to yank her back down to his base so her nose was buried in the thatch of his pubic hair for a second time, then again, and again. He fucked her face hard and fast, his eyes near rolling back into his head at how good her mouth felt. “Fuck, fuck,” he grit out between clenched teeth.

He could feel pressure building at the base of his spine, flaring out in waves that crested higher and higher with every hard thrust into Bethany’s mouth. He kept going hard right up until the very end, and when it took him he slammed into her throat and held her there, forcing her to swallow or choke as he started to come.

It seemed to go on forever, and yet nowhere near long enough. He was cursing as he came, calling her seven kinds of whore and pushing her tighter and closer as he shot hot loads into the wet heat of her. Most went straight down her throat, but he took a great deal of pleasure in watching her face twist as she forced herself to swallow.

Only then did he withdraw from her, still more cum dripping from her mouth after him in milky strings. He sagged back to rest his elbows on the table, watching through half lidded eyes as she wiped at her mouth with the back of her hand, succeeding only in smearing his cum. “You look much prettier this way,” he drawled. “More honest.” Then, looking past her, “Don't you think so?”

Bethany stiffened as one of the slavers wrapped his hands around her hips. She did not attempt to pull away this time, only sat quivering as the slaver smoothed his hands up and down and back up her curves. He tugged her so that her back was flush against his chest, all three of them watching as the slaver molded his hands to her breasts, weighing them in his hands. He seemed to like what he found, because he started murmuring to Bethany in Tevene as he rolled her nipples in between his fingers. Softly, at first, then harder, pinching and twisting them until she couldn't hold back an unhappy noise.

“She's Ferelden,” the slaver said then, shoving her unexpectedly so that she fetched up rough on an outflung arm. “They march to war when they run out things that hold still long enough to fuck.”

Bethany twisted her head, something bubbling up in her mouth that sounded sharp, only to be cut off on a startled cry when the slaver slapped her ass. The crack of skin meeting skin was loud in the space, and Bethany flinched. “Whore. Worthless baseborn. You can use your mouth when I decide to put it to use,” he told her, much to Gamlen’s amusement, and no little bit of interest.

His own cock was nowhere near hard again yet, but it stirred as the slaver silent behind her and started to touch her here and there, running his hands across her skin with considering noises. “Well bred,” he told Gamlen and the other slavers, ignoring a noise from Bethany that had almost been a word before she muddled it between her teeth. “Good skin, wide hips.”

With little more warning than that, he shifted Bethany in his lap and sank into her in one long thrust, to mingled noises from both them, Gamlen, and the other slavers. “There’s what you were talking about, Gamlen,” the slaver sighed. Pushed her up off of his cock then pulled her back down the length of his cock until he was fully sheathed inside of her again. “Perfect.” Another thrust, harder than before, grunting when she squirmed and bit back a whimper. “Just perfect.”

On the next upstroke, when the tip of his cock was just barely bridging her cunt, he shifted so that it instead prodded at her ass. “Move,” he told her. “Do what you do best.”

Her hesitation was rewarded with another slap, which got a sob, but also got her moving. Slowly, reluctantly, she started to lower herself onto his cock. He was slick with cum and her own arousal, but it was still nowhere near enough preparation that she didn't cry out and jerk to a stop when he was just barely inside, breathing hard and trembling. The slaver slapped her again, hard, not bothering to stifle a grunt when she jerked. “I told you to move. Don't make me tell you again.”

Shuddering with barely held back sobs, she spread her legs to brace herself and started to ride him. She set an uneven pace, wincing and whimpering with every slight movement, but she did it. The slaver watched her for a short while, breathlessly watching the sway of her curls as she pushed him inside of her ass. Not as deep as he'd have liked, but deep enough that he started to hum in the back of his throat every time he sank home, every time she clenched tight around him when she shivered.

Eventually, however, he tired of that and thrust hard when she started to lower herself, burying himself to the hilt. She let out a high, ragged cry, one that went higher still when he grabbed the swell of her hips and thrust in hard enough that her head fell back onto his shoulder.

He had as much gentleness to him as Brutus had, if not less. He took Bethany with a singleminded purpose that was focused on his pleasure, on owning her completely, and he did. There was not one single part of her body that wasn't trembling in answer to every thrust, not one sound out of her throat that didn't belong to him. She screamed, she wailed, then, near the end, she moaned, long and low and helpless, torn out of her all despite herself.

She arched back into the slaver, twitching and gasping out a soft, wavering whine as he dragged his nails down her ribs. “Cry for me, whore,” the slaver groaned in her ear, and gave a particularly hard thrust that made her clench tight around him on a wail. “Again.” Again. “Again!” Again. And again, and again, until Bethany was rolling her hips to grind down onto every inch of the slaver’s cock with as much clear desperation as he, crying out Andraste’s name when the slaver came hard inside her ass. She wasn't far behind, grinding down hard onto him so that he was as far inside her as she could get as she let out a helpless, hopeless moan, bow bowed in a graceful curve that Gamlen ached to touch and taste and own. And he would.

They all would.

“Don't think you're done now,” Gamlen said at the sag of her mouth when she came down, reaching a shaking hand for him, and stepped back to allow room for yet another slaver. “I have a big debt to pay off, and you're going to do it for me. At two sovereigns a hole, that's… A hundred fucks.” A swift flash of teeth. “Have fun with that.”


End file.
